Saturday, 21 September 2019

Questions this morning 

The lid flicks open
An eye of crystallised emerald 
With bright orange pupil
Pin black dot in the morning middle 
Reflects a face
Is it you 
Is it me
Somewhere outside is it sanctuary 
Is it glowing green 
Does it frame that distant memory 
Of orange flames licking the jungle’s
Morning mist
So long ago now
That you could be dreams 
Ah grief against the bones 
To be such at a loss
These days is a bat dance
A cat creeps across the back garden wall
Blue tits shimmer inside the tree canopy 
Rats scuttle into the bushes
The air rings with sirens and machinery 
Ah. 

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